July 27th, 2006
Daniel Elkins.
It was a name that prior to that morning, hadn't held much meaning to Dean. But as the day unfolded, he found it was glad that it had at least rung some kind of bell in his mind when Sam had read it aloud.
Dean shared a look with his brother as their dad backtracked to his own truck, and he suspected Sam's mind was reeling as much as his.
"Vampires?" he asked, though it was more a rhetorical question than anything. Sam sighed and shook his head, gesturing towards their dad's retreating back through the windshield.
"Shouldn't be surprised. Typical Dad. Not tellin' us stuff, just barking orders and thinking it's enough. At least he's willing to go get dinner."
Dean turned the engine back over but shot Sam a look from the corner of his eye. It was too soon for this crap. He'd let it go – for now, at least. It had been a long day. About eight hours in the car just to make it to Manning, Colorado without any stops thanks to the accident on the highway, followed by the search they did of Elkins cabin (which still had Dean feeling unsettled, despite Sam's amusement), then the post office, and now the run-in with their dad. Hell, Dean was feeling a little cranky too.
"Yeah, I'm starvin'," he agreed instead.
He followed John to a bar and grill on the outskirts of town, grateful that it wasn't far. It was only once they were inside and seated that things started to get really interesting.
"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me."
The words had slipped from his lips before he'd had a chance to give them much thought, and Dean realized his mistake when both Sam and his dad abandoned their menus to look at him instead. Seeing that his eyes were trained on the bar, they both followed his gaze, and as they turned back, Dean knew Sam had spotted her too.
Because, of course, why wouldn't Lorelai show up when he probably least wanted her there. They hadn't seen each other since Chicago, and he wasn't keen on having this particular reunion with an audience.
"What?" John asked, obviously not spotting the familiar face. Dean wasn't surprised – it had been about a year, after all, since the three of them had taken care of the Chupacabra together, and obviously the one encounter they had back when Lorelai had met Sam hadn't been significant enough for either of them to recognize each other the last time they'd been in the same space. Thinking quickly, Dean motioned to his beer and started to move to get up from their booth.
"Nothing. Waitress grabbed the wrong beer; I'll be right back."
Sharing a look with Sam, he grabbed the bottle and ducked away from the table before either of them could say anything. The place was pretty busy, but luckily for him, Lorelai had scouted out a spot towards the end of the bar and it was almost too easy to slide up next to her.
She glanced over half-heartedly when he rested his forearms on the stretch of counter to her left, the beer in his hand making a dull thunk as it made contact with the wood, but her lack of interest turned to a look of surprise when she recognized him, and then finally a smile. Despite the circumstances, it was a small relief that she seemed happy to see him – given how they'd left things, he hadn't been entirely sure what type of reception to expect.
"Of all the gin joints in all the towns…" she joked, leaning back in her stool and shifting ever so slightly to face him. Dean snorted.
"Lor," he greeted.
"Dean," she copied with a straight face, only to smile wider in the end. "You look good."
Dean found his eyes roving her figure of their own accord and couldn't help but think the same of her. The red Henley she was wearing was unbuttoned enough to show off her cleavage, and the fit flattered her slim figure. Her hair was straight, and she'd left it hanging loosely around her face – a clear sign that she wasn't anticipating any action for the rest of the evening. Aside from a fresh-looking cut on the top of her right forearm, she looked to be in good health and good spirits. It was likely the most pleasant initial greeting he'd received from her since they'd split up, and somewhere he hoped they might be making progress.
"So do you. What happened there?" he asked, nodding towards her arm. She glanced at it but was rolling her eyes when she turned back to him.
"Crazy bitch got me with a cursed blade last week," she complained, lowering her voice so that no one else would hear. He raised his eyebrows, silently prompting her to go on, even as she paused to sip the drink she was nursing. "It's nothing," she continued dismissively, "I just haven't had time to stop by St. Fern's. They'll be able to patch it up in no time if it doesn't heal on its own."
"St. Fern's?" he asked, looking carefully over her head and back towards the table. Sam had pulled out a newspaper and was engaging their dad in some kind of conversation, but Dean wasn't sure how long he'd be able to keep their old man distracted.
"Special hospital," Lorelai smirked, pointedly flexing a boot-clad foot as she crossed her legs, and Dean realized she meant it was a magical hospital. "Anyway, how are you doing? Where's Sam? I'll get the next round and the three of us can talk about whatever's brought you out here, because I'm sure it's not a coincidence."
Dean let out a humorless chuckle and took a swig of his beer, letting his head hang for a moment while he braced himself for what he was sure was going to be an argument.
"Would be highly unlikely," he agreed. Lorelai looked at him imploringly, and he realized that leaning against the bar, she was now close enough that he could smell the rose infused shampoo and floral perfume he'd come to associate with her. "Sam's over there, but you might wanna reconsider your offer." Lorelai turned her head in the direction Dean had motioned, and he watched her shoulders sag the moment she found the mark.
"Son of a bitch."
"That Chupacabra case we worked last summer, when my dad showed up. You were so nervous because you were afraid he'd get too close and figure out what you are, not because we were dating," he theorized, working to keep the accusatory tone out of his voice. It was something that had been on his mind for a while but had kept quiet about, like so many other things they just hadn't talked about yet.
Even at the time, though, Dean remembered thinking her reaction had seemed… out of character, or at least more intense than he'd have anticipated. He hadn't pushed her about it – she'd already been so skittish about dating him, he had his own nerves with his dad around, and there'd been enough tension between them on that case, as he remembered, that he hadn't felt the need to stir up any more. But months after the fact, the truth of what had been at play occurred to him somewhere about halfway through the list of hunters she'd given him that knew about the wizarding world.
Lorelai bit her lip and nodded.
"Your dad has a bit of a reputation," she admitted. "Great hunter, but not very… trusting. I can't back off this one, though. I'm on assignment."
"Well, we're not walking away either, sweetheart," he told her, pushing down the emotions that information kicked up. Lorelai let out a frustrated sigh and downed the rest of her drink.
"Assuming we're on the same thing, I already found the nest. Or its general vicinity, anyway."
Of course she already knew about vampires, he thought to himself bitterly.
"Great, tell us where it is, and we'll take care of it."
"I can't, I'm on assignment," she repeated, the aggravation clear in her voice. "There's rumors of a Wendigo about five towns over, go have your family reunion chasing that."
"Not a chance," he said, taking a sip of his beer, and he could tell his nonchalance was only getting under her skin. She breathed deeply, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose before leaning back in her seat.
"Alright, well, I'll just have to be really, really careful. I hunted with you pretty regularly for five months and you never batted an eye."
Dean frowned, his eyes narrowing at the casual reminder of her deceit, but she didn't seem to notice, and he decided it wasn't the time or the place to pick at that particular scab.
"He's not gonna wanna work with anyone else, Lor. I still can't believe he hasn't ditched us," Dean pointed out, and Lorelai groaned.
"Dean, please," she pleaded, turning to him with that look on her face he had a hard time saying no to. "You've got to help me. I don't have any wiggle room on this one. Besides, you know I can be helpful."
She wasn't wrong. When they'd been seeing each other, he'd called her for backup so frequently for her hunting skills as much as it had been an excuse to see her, and there was no denying she'd been a help in Hibbing and Fitchburg. Even in Kinston, to some extent, and she'd been pretty fucked up at the time. Something wasn't adding up though. Lorelai didn't ask for favors, and she didn't get attached to cases – not the way he did. He remembered the feeling he'd gotten while he and Sam had been poking around Elkins' cabin, the one that had left him feeling so unsettled and made Sam laugh at him, and his suspicions only deepened.
"What does MACUSA care so much about a bunch of vampires for anyway? You said it's not uncommon for you guys to drop off cases when you see hunters pick them up," Dean questioned. Lorelai pursed her lips, and he knew he'd hit on something. It was as though he could see the gears turning in her head.
"It's not about the vamps," she finally said, "it's about what they took." Dean's eyes lit up and he slapped the bar excitedly, suddenly feeling vindicated. Lorelai was taken aback and regarded him concernedly.
"I knew it!" he exclaimed.
"Knew what?" she repeated curiously, all while nodding distractedly at the bartender who was trying to ask if she wanted another drink. Dean grinned, leaning in closer.
"Sam thought I was nuts, but you were at Daniel Elkins' place earlier today, weren't you? Looking for the Colt?"
Lorelai's brow only furrowed deeper.
"How could you possibly know that?" she demanded. Dean shrugged, still not confident he could explain it any better than he'd tried to with Sam earlier. The only difference was now he knew he hadn't been wrong.
"There was this, I don't know, this… buzz in the air that felt like you. Almost like an echo or something." He'd expected her to laugh at the confession, or tease him like Sam had, but instead she only looked surprised.
"You felt my magic?" she whispered, leaning in even closer. In the distance, he saw Sam watching them curiously while his dad was saying something to their waitress. Dean looked back to Lorelai and shrugged.
"You tell me."
Lorelai frowned. "Was Sam able to feel it?" she asked, and he shook his head. Her frown deepened, and Dean wanted to ask her what she was thinking, but he caught sight of his waitress walking past and felt eyes on him. Remembering Lorelai's request he nudged her knee, effectively recapturing her attention, and smiled.
"If you want me to pull this off, smile back like I said something charming and kiss me."
Dean could see the question burning in her eyes, but some part of her must still have trusted him because the next thing he knew, the familiar, flirtatious smile was on her face and she was pulling him into her, her hand coming to rest along his jawline. He could see Sam's smirking face next to his dad's surprised one from the corner of his eye before he leaned into the kiss, trying not to let himself get too distracted by how soft and welcoming Lorelai's lips were under his, or the fact that she tasted like cranberry.
"What are you up to, Winchester?" she mumbled, a challenging look in her eye even as he rested his forehead against hers.
"Helping you. My dad'll recognize you. Steady girlfriend and hunting partner's gonna get you in a lot easier than anything else you'd come up with. Believable enough too, considering last time you met him." Lorelai's cheeks flushed at the reminder and Dean felt something stir inside of him at the sight.
"I think you just wanted to kiss me," she accused. Instead of responding Dean dipped his head to kiss her again, smirking when he felt her breath catch and her mouth molded to his.
"Probably about as much as you wanted to kiss me," he retorted, still so close he could feel her breath on his face.
"Jackass," she muttered, causing him to chuckle at the familiar insult. It was one she had taken to using almost affectionately… before, anyway.
"Irresistible jackass," he corrected, his usual line rolling off his tongue as if no time had passed. Lorelai was shaking her head at him as she finally leaned back. The fact that she was holding in laughter let him know he wasn't entirely wrong.
"We'll see about that."
He could have bantered with her all night, but realizing they still had an audience Dean stepped back and motioned for her to get up.
"Come on. Follow my lead and we'll catch up after dinner, alright?"
Lorelai bit her bottom lip, searching his eyes before nodding.
"Yeah, okay. Thanks, Dean." She grabbed her bag from the bar before allowing him to guide her back towards his table, his arm slipping around her waist as he did. Sam's eyes, as well as his dad's, followed them the whole way over, and Dean didn't miss the wariness on his dad's face. He also didn't miss the way the woman in his arms seemed to tense the closer they got, and he gently squeezed her it what he hoped was a reassuring manner.
"Look who I found hanging out at the bar," Dean announced jovially as he and Lorelai approached. Sam gave her a genuine smile, despite the surprise still written clear across his face, and was already sliding out of the booth to greet her.
"Lorelai, hey!" he said enthusiastically while she stepped out of Dean's grasp to hug his brother, although she had to go up on her toes to do it. Dean was grateful Lorelai was occupied and missed the skeptical look his dad sent him before John rearranged his face into a smile when Lorelai and Sam broke apart.
"Hey, Sam, it's good to see you! How's the shoulder?"
"Good as new," he dismissed, rolling it to demonstrate. "What happened to your arm?" Sam received the same eyeroll Dean had.
"Occupational hazard," she answered, tucking herself back into Dean's side while Sam settled back into his seat. "It'll be fine in no time, just a scrape."
John still hadn't said anything, although his eyes hadn't left Lorelai. And as if sensing his stare, Lorelai turned her head to him, charming smile fixed on her face. That was when Dean decided to step in.
"Dad, you remember my girlfriend, right? Lorelai… you met her while we were hunting down in Georgia last summer." His dad nodded, smiling politely in acknowledgement.
"Of course. Didn't realize you two were still seeing each other. Nice to see you again, Lorelai."
"You too, John." If she was nervous, she hid it well; the only thing betraying her was the tightness Dean could feel in her back.
"I asked her to join us," Dean told them, dropping back onto the bench but sliding over so that Lorelai could follow him in. "Turns out she knew Elkins too."
John seemed interested at that piece of information, and Lorelai nodded, settling into her seat and putting her drink down on the table.
"Is that so?"
"Yeah, he helped me out with a Kitsune a few towns over about two years ago," she rattled off, so smoothly that Dean wasn't sure if she was telling the truth or doing that good of a job playing along. If he had to put money on it, he'd guess the story was real since she knew about the Colt, but he still made a mental note to ask her about it later. "He was a good man."
"Yeah, he was," John agreed. Before anyone could say anything else, their waitress popped up again, seemingly already having spotted they had an addition based on the extra menu and glass of water in her hands.
"I see you gentleman have a guest," she said, placing the water on the table. Dean smiled, draping his arm along the back of the booth behind Lorelai.
"My fault, Lydia, didn't know she was gonna make it," he said.
"Oh, it's no trouble!" the waitress bubbled before turning to Lorelai. "Would you like a menu, sweetie? You can take a look, and I'll pop back in a few minutes to take everyone's order."
Dean resisted the urge to chuckle, feeling Lorelai bristle at being called 'sweetie', only to immediately smile and reach out eagerly upon being offered a menu and a chance at food. When she wasn't actively raising walls to keep him out, it was easy to remember why they had fallen together so effortlessly before.
"That would be great, thank you!"
Across the table Sam caught Dean's eye, seeming equally amused, as Lorelai happily flipped open the menu. She was already scanning over it before the waitress had even walked away.
"Lor said she's already got a beat on the nest," Dean told them quietly once they were alone again, looking to his dad and his brother while Lorelai read on. Sam nodded, and Dean could see the puzzle pieces clicking together for him, while his dad seemed surprised, if not mildly impressed. Hearing what Dean said, Lorelai paused and looked up from her perusing just long enough to nod in confirmation before flipping to the last page. Only a moment later she dropped the laminated booklet on top of the other three copies the Winchesters had already dispensed with and leaned back into Dean.
"I was going to do a little surveillance tomorrow morning, try and get a sense of how many I'm up against before heading in, confirm I've got the right place. Would certainly be easier if it were four of us instead of just me."
Dean noticed the way she'd framed it so that it wasn't a question of her working with them, but rather her offering to let them help her. It was clever, but he doubted it would entirely avoid the conversation the way she was hoping.
"Have you hunted vampires before?" Sam asked her, genuine curiosity coloring his tone. Lorelai nodded tiredly, letting her head lull back against Dean's chest.
"Few times. I've already got dead man's blood in my room, ready to go."
"Dead man's…" Dean started to ask, and Lorelai glanced up at him with a raised eyebrow before looking around and seeing that John was the only one who seemed to understand, and she looked at him questioningly instead.
"I thought they were extinct," he explained, guessing at her unasked question. Lorelai smiled bitterly and shook her head.
"Definitely not. They've just gotten better at… blending."
The waitress was walking back over and taking their orders before any of them could say anything more about the vampires. It was the usual orders for the Winchesters – Sam got some type of grilled chicken dish, citing that Dean should follow his lead and start watching what he ate, while Dean ordered his normal burger, and their dad ordered one that only sounded like half the heart attack his eldest was signing up for. When it was Lorelai's turn, however, Dean had to hold back laughter at looks of surprise on both his brother and his father's face as she rattled off what she wanted, starting with a beer and ending with a pretty simplistic burger – but including the sides she asked for in between made her order easily the largest and most unhealthy of the group's.
"How are you not 300 pounds?" Sam asked as Lydia walked away and Lorelai settled back into Dean.
"Active lifestyle? Fast metabolism? Take your pick," she said lazily, only to mutter "Better question is how you sustain yourself on freaking rabbit food." Sam scowled while the corners of John's mouth threatened to twitch upwards.
The rest of dinner was rather uneventful. Dean was surprised when his dad turned the conversation from vampires to what he and Sam had been up to since the three of them had parted ways in Chicago, after the incident with Meg and the daevas, but eventually he realized it was because John hadn't decided what to do about Lorelai.
Lorelai, for what it was worth, played her part masterfully. Although in reality, it was only the third time he'd seen her since they'd broken up and his dad had gone missing, she fit herself into the conversation as if she'd been in touch with both him and Sam the whole time, never missing a beat or betraying any amount of surprise at something she hadn't heard about beforehand. She charmed John, leaned into her normal rhythm with Sam, and flirted with and doted on Dean with such familiarity he had to remind himself that it was an act. It was easy, though, to get swept up with her, and suddenly Dean was able to envision with a whole new level of clarity what things could have been like if he'd kept his cool, or even called her, after her confession in September.
About halfway through dinner, Lorelai's phone rang, and Dean glanced over, able to see that it was Katie before she'd even said anything. She spared John and Sam a brief apologetic glance before turning to Dean, already throwing her napkin onto the tabletop.
"Sorry, I've got to –" but Dean waved her off in understanding.
"Go," he said firmly. She smiled, pecked him on the lips, and slid out of the booth, already moving the phone up to her ear as she made her way towards the door. He tried not to watch her walk away too wistfully, and was greeted with questioning looks from both his father and his brother when he turned his attention back to the table. "Katie," he told Sam, answering the unasked question. "Her little sister," he added for John's benefit. Sam nodded, going for another bite of his food while John processed the information.
"Does she hunt too?" Dean shook his head, hoping this line of questioning wouldn't go too far. He wasn't sure how much Lorelai would want to share.
"No, she's only thirteen." He realized too late that thirteen was ages past when he and Sam had begun hunting, but his dad only nodded, a small frown on his face and his brow slightly furrowed as though he were thinking hard about something.
"Dean, what the hell are you doin'?" He started to bristle, but John continued on. "A girlfriend? We can't have those kinds of connections. She's a weakness. All you're gonna do is put her in danger and get her killed. I thought you woulda pulled your head outta your ass by now about this."
He could feel Sam's eyes on him, but Dean couldn't afford to look in his direction. It didn't matter that the evening had all been an act. The truth was that his father's words had been ringing in his ears since Halloween. Sure, there had been some distractions that had delayed him, and he'd needed some time to wrap his head around Lorelai's… abilities… but it had been watching Sam lose Jess that had stopped him from calling Lorelai. It had been the reminder he'd needed that the demon that had taken his mother was still out there, and apparently still had a taste for women associated with Winchesters.
But then Katie had called and sent out the SOS that had thrown him back in Lorelai's path, and he'd been reminded that Lorelai wasn't like Jess, or their mom. She was already in the life, and the magic that had driven them apart was only an added defense for her. And to top it off, staying out of her life certainly wouldn't keep her out of danger. She'd proven that by nearly dying in May. He'd been at war with himself since, wanting to make things right with her but also scared of putting an additional target on her back, among his many other complicated feelings. Right now, however, he needed to lean into the part of him that wanted her around, and so he took a deep breath before meeting his father's eyes with a steady resolve he wished he felt all the time.
"Lorelai's not exactly your average, all-American girl, Dad. She was already doin' this when I met her. She's in danger with or without me in her life and she's not a weakness. We've been over this already. I know what I'm doing and I'm not walkin' away from her. Not then. Not now."
"I thought you got it after Chicago." Dean's face darkened at the reminder of the Daeva, of how he and Sam had almost gotten their dad killed, but he refused to let it make him waver.
"This is different. Besides, you're here right now, aren't you? You said it yourself, we gotta find this gun and you need help going after the vampires."
"I've got you boys. We'll be fine."
"Dad, Dean and I haven't hunted vampires before, Lorelai has. It would be stupid not to take her help." Dean was torn between being appreciative of his brother's support and interjection, and the desire to groan at the fight he was sure it would kick off between him and John.
"I'm surprised at you, Sammy. After what happened to your girlfriend?" Sam's expression darkened considerably, and Dean watched his jaw twitch, but to Sam's credit, he stayed even instead of blowing up the way Dean was sure he wanted to.
"It's not the same. Dean's right, Lorelai was already hunting long before she met him. She knows what she's doing. We've worked with her before and she's the furthest thing from a liability." John looked back and forth between his sons and Dean couldn't read his expression.
"She saved Sam," Dean added quietly, catching his dad by surprise and pulling the focus back onto him. He shared a look with his brother before taking a swig of his beer and continuing on. "About two months back we thought we were going after a phantom attacker, but it turned out to just be a bunch of hillbilly cannibal freaks. Sam got abducted. Lor's the one that found him. And I've already told you, she's saved my ass more than once. She's good at what she does. I wouldn't work with her if she weren't, girlfriend or not."
John sighed, his features softening somewhat. Although he didn't look entirely convinced, Dean suspected they'd made enough of a case that he would ultimately relent. Before anyone could say anything else, however, the brunette in question was sliding back into the booth, a look of exasperation on her face as she dropped the phone back onto the table, reached for her beer, and leaned back into Dean.
"Sorry about that," she told them all before taking a drink.
"Everything alright?" Sam asked, and she waved a hand dismissively.
"Yeah, yeah. Goddamn kids. She's going to dinner with our brother and sister-in-law and wanted to borrow something out of my closet she couldn't find."
"You have a lot of family?" John asked. His demeanor had relaxed again, but Dean knew him well enough to know that he was still assessing. Past the initial interrogation they'd both been through, which had been more about 'what the hell are you two doing' and less about Lorelai specifically, his dad hadn't asked many questions the year before. Dean wasn't sure if it was that John had taken the liking to Lorelai that Dean suspected he had, or if he figured she'd stuck around too long to be ignored, or if it was a combination of the two things, but it seemed that was about to change. Briefly, Dean wondered if he should have pushed her harder to interact with the man more the previous summer.
Lorelai bit the inside of her cheek, thinking, before shrugging. Dean felt a pang of sympathy for her – she didn't do the opening up thing well.
"It's not exactly traditional, but yeah."
"Still live with your parents?" John ventured, and Lorelai snorted.
"Not so much. Been on my own since I was seventeen. Took my little sister in when I was nineteen. Mom died when I was five. My stepmom, Katie's mom, died when I was… thirteen? Did a brief stint with my aunt and uncle, but that didn't really work out."
"How'd you get into hunting?" John asked. "I don't believe I've heard that story yet."
Dean noticed a shift in Lorelai's demeanor. She straightened up ever so slightly, and catching onto the analytic gaze John was fixing her with, she met it with one of her own.
"I suppose we've reached the interrogation portion of the evening?" she finally asked with a raised eyebrow, before taking a sip of her drink and settling further back into Dean. John seemed thrown off for a minute at being called out, but regained his composure quickly enough.
"Just trying to get to know the girl that's wormed her way into my son's heart. Not a feat many have pulled off." She let out a quiet snort, one that Dean was sure only he heard, and smiled back undeterred.
"My mother was killed by a witch. Same one tried to kill me a while later and got one of my older brothers instead. Didn't know until then that she'd been behind my mother dying either. So, after that I trained, and I worked at it, and I killed her a few years later. But by then it was hard to hang it up, so to speak. So I've kept going. Keeps me sane."
Without thinking, Dean found himself running his hand over Lorelai's arm in a reassuring gesture, his mind wandering back to those early days of when they'd been getting to know each other. They'd bonded early on over how difficult it was to not only lose a parent at such a young age, but to watch it happen. Neither of them had opened up about the full story of what had happened to their mothers until after they'd run into each other while hunting the werewolf, and even then, Lorelai had only been able to give him the same watered-down version John had just received. Still, he remembered the pain that had been evident in her eyes and her voice as they'd laid on the hood of the Impala, looking up at the stars. She'd been embarrassed, pulling herself together just short of crying, and admitted to him that it wasn't a topic she normally allowed herself to truly visit. It was a rare but endearing glimpse of her vulnerable side and had opened the door for him to be able to reciprocate.
Today, however, there were no near-tears or catches in her voice. Lorelai was very matter of fact, and as John regarded her, Dean could see the begrudging respect forming in his eyes. Against all odds, she was winning him over, and Dean knew she was ultimately going to get her way. So help them all.
"All right, what the hell is going on?"
Later that night, Dean had already settled around the small round table in Lorelai's motel room, across from the witch herself with Lorelai's case file spread out between them, when Sam burst in through the door. They both looked up, Lorelai in mild surprise and Dean with a flash of annoyance. With some of the fog from pretending to be her doting boyfriend cleared, Dean had found renewed frustration at the complication Lorelai's presence added to the situation.
"Hey Sam," Lorelai greeted pleasantly, while Dean rolled his eyes and gestured to the table.
"Negotiations," Dean answered. "Welcome to the party."
He watched his brother's face scrunch in further confusion, his eyes darting between the pair before ultimately landing on Dean while Lorelai went back to consulting the paper in her hands.
"Negotiations?" Sam questioned, and Dean nodded, giving the witch a pointed look that went ignored.
"Apparently our esteemed Auror Baudelaire here's on an assignment she just can't back out of," Dean informed him, earning a withering stare from Lorelai, and a head shake from Sam.
"It's my job, Dean, what do you –"
"Okay, woah, woah, woah, hold up. So, you didn't know she was coming?" Sam interjected, his eyes still set on Dean. "And what about the whole meet my girlfriend routine with Dad?"
It hurt him to do, but Dean scoffed, and when Lorelai made a similar sound, he was glad he had.
"It's called acting," Lorelai said, raising an eyebrow at Sam and putting the paper she'd been holding back on the table.
"I didn't know she'd be here," Dean added, answering Sam's original question. "I told you, I haven't talked to her since Fitchburg."
It was a lie, but Dean figured only partially. Aside from the brief phone call she'd made to apologize, they really hadn't talked. There'd been one or two traded text messages, but nothing of substance… nothing more than reminders that the other was still out there and they weren't warring.
"I've been on back-to-back-to-back cases," Lorelai supplied, nodding her head in agreement. Dean tried not to assign too much meaning to the clarification and instead focused on appreciating the backup. Maybe with Lorelai saying the same thing, Sam would get off his case.
"Why the act?" Sam asked warily, slowly taking a seat between the two of them. Dean watched Lorelai purse her lips, her eyes darting in his direction before going to a spot on the wall behind Sam. A slight blush bloomed over her pale cheeks and Dean resisted the urge to smirk. Lorelai tried to be such a closed book when it came to her emotions, it had become a point of pride for Dean whenever he was a reason for a chink in the armor.
"Your brother was doing me a favor," she admitted begrudgingly. "I told him MACUSA wouldn't let me off the case and he thought I'd have better luck with your dad this way."
"And we said we'd catch up after dinner," Dean was quick to remind her when he saw Sam's interest piquing. The last thing he wanted to do was answer twenty questions about why he'd chosen "girlfriend" as Lorelai's cover story.
Thankfully, Lorelai nodded in agreement, even if she leaned back in her chair, rubbing at her temples and closing her eyes as she did so. The cut on her forearm glared angrily, and Dean bit his tongue to stop himself from pressing her for more details.
"We did," she murmured, while Sam settled his gaze over the paperwork.
"So, what exactly are we looking at here, then?" he questioned.
"Lorelai, apparently, is looking for a way to kill demons," Dean announced, gesturing in her direction before folding his arms over his chest. They hadn't gotten far into the conversation, but she'd shared that much at least. Sam's eyebrows raised, interest clearly piqued, and turned to look Lorelai. In typical fashion, she shrugged again, the picture of nonchalance.
"We've been seeing more of them lately," she said simply. "Exorcisms only do so much. And they're slow. Lots of room for error, not permanent. I don't like it."
Sam's eyes widened, and he turned to Dean.
"Isn't… didn't Dad say, back after the Daeva, that he was…" Sam trailed off, but Dean nodded, remembering the conversation clearly. Their dad had been explicit. He was planning on killing the demon that killed their mother, not exorcising it, and he was working on how.
"Yeah… based on what Lorelai's shared, seems like that's what the big deal is about the Colt. Turns out she was at Elkins place, by the way. Looking for the gun. So I'll take that apology whenever you're ready."
Sam ignored the jab and there was silence while he and Lorelai let Sam try and wrap his head around the information. Silence during which Dean found himself watching Lorelai from the corner of his eye. She was all business now, though the smirk tugging at her lips let him know she found something about the situation amusing. Finally, Sam shook his head and looked in her direction.
"How did you end up here? Our dad didn't even know the Colt was real until we found a letter Elkins left for him earlier tonight."
"Yeah," Dean tacked on. He'd been wondering that too. "Was that whole song and dance about knowing Elkins at dinner real, or'd you make that up?"
"Made it up," Lorelai admitted, "but MACUSA had a file on him. He's worked with Aurors before. The Kitsune story was real, he just didn't work it with me."
"And what, MACUSA was just waiting for something to gank him to come get their hands on his gun?" Dean asked, and Lorelai rolled her eyes.
"Of course not," she snapped, suddenly rifling through the pages. Eventually she pulled one and slammed it down between them, and with a jolt, Dean recognized it as a copy from one of the pages in their dad's journal. "It was actually your dad that tipped me off. I noticed that when Sam had me glance through to see if you guys missed anything about the striga. I've been trying to figure out a way to make a weapon work for the past year… well, a way that won't send MACUSA into a tizzy. If I weren't worried about the fallout, I'd have it done by now – but anyway, point is, I was hitting a wall and I saw that. Did some digging… a lot of digging, actually… figured out that the lore was pretty legit, or at least there was enough of it to seem credible. Elkins was one of a few possible names I came up with to check out, see if he knew anything. 'Course, he turned up dead before I got out here, so when I heard I got my ass out here as fast as I could. Go figure, that wasn't fast enough, and the vamps got it first, but hey, I'll take the progress as a win."
It was almost infuriating how matter of fact she was… how fast her damn brain worked sometimes, but it was hard not to be impressed too. From the look on his face, Sam was too, and Dean felt a twinge of pride he wasn't sure he had a right to feel.
"You… how did… Lorelai, I only showed you our dad's journal like a month ago," Sam said. She shrugged, suddenly looking uncomfortable.
"I've tracked down more obscure weapons. It ain't that hard once you know what to look for. Looked for patterns in case files of known hunters for this one… things that couldn't be explained, successes that didn't add up, that sort of thing. Got lucky it was Elkins, to be honest."
"Man's dead, Lor," Dean reminded her, and she had the grace to look sheepish.
"Right. Didn't mean it like that. Just… you know…"
He did, and he let it drop. Sam shook his head and looked between the two of them.
"Okay, so what now?" he asked, an uneasy silence settling over the three of them. "I assume we're not telling Dad about the witch thing."
"We work the case," Lorelai offered, though her voice lacked its usual conviction. "I don't need magic to hunt."
"What about when we find the gun?" Dean asked, biting back what he wanted to say about her 'hunting.' "Killin' the vampires is one thing, but Dad isn't gonna let the Colt out of his sight once we find it. He hasn't even told Sam and I what it is yet, and I'd love to see you try and explain to him why you need it."
Lorelai chewed on her lip, fidgeting with her bracelet while she thought.
"We can cross that bridge when we come to it," she finally said slowly, though it was clear the thought didn't sit well with her. "It'd be better if I could actually keep it, but if I can get a little bit of time to study it, that would probably be a help."
Dean had a feeling that even that would be hard, but he wasn't in the mood to argue about it, and sharing a look with Sam, it didn't seem like his brother was either. Especially considering that if figuring out a way to kill demons was something Lorelai could actually pull off, Dean had no interest in standing in her way… and whatever crap there was between them, well… she wasn't someone he doubted.
The three of them sat around talking a little while longer, until someone glanced at a clock and realized what time it was. None of them were quite sure what the next day would bring, but they all knew it was likely to be a challenge, and they were all exhausted. So Sam retreated to the room he was sharing with their dad, and Dean found himself alone with Lorelai and all the things that were still left unspoken between them.
Despite the months apart, they moved around each other with an ease that belied the distance, falling into old routines that felt as familiar as pulling on a well-worn flannel. He shaved at the sink while she showered, timing it effortlessly to finish nearly in sync and swap places, so she could take off her makeup and wash her face while he showered. She made sure the door was locked while he checked the windows. They brushed their teeth alongside each other, trading off whoever's tube of toothpaste that had been closer and taking turns rinsing their mouths. It was the small stuff that really got him – the moment she wordlessly handed him a washcloth when he was ready to pat his face dry… how he'd found himself reaching for one of her hair ties without even thinking about it, simply because he was closer, and he knew she needed it to braid her hair.
It was as she was standing at the mirror, hair pulled to the side while she worked it into that braid, that Dean found himself watching her, his own bedtime rituals mostly complete. The cut on her arm glared angrily even from across the room, but given the amount of skin she was showing, it was the last thing on his mind. He hadn't thought anything of it before but, seeing the tank top and shorts she'd changed into, he was glad she'd waited for Sam to go back to his room before getting ready for bed. The ensemble didn't leave much to the imagination – the tops of her breasts were apparent thanks to the scooped neckline, and it rode up, exposing a good inch or two of her midriff as well. The shorts showed off her long legs, and Dean couldn't help but fondly remember how it'd felt having them wrapped around him the last time they'd seen each other.
Lorelai, of course, seemed oblivious to the distraction she was creating, and went about her routine, resolutely ignoring him. By the time she finally walked back out into the room, Dean had kicked his shoes off and had resumed readying to turn in himself – although for him by that point, it was as simple as stripping down to his boxers. She caught his eye as he was unzipping his jeans, and he sent an inviting look in her direction that had her shaking her head and giving him an amused smile while she walked towards the beds.
"Oh no, we're not making that mistake again." Although she'd said it seriously, there was a certain amount of lightness in the statement. Lightness that had been notably absent in the aftermath of their last night together, and so Dean decided to test the boundaries, raising his eyebrows.
"You didn't seem to think it was such a mistake when –" he began to taunt, but the warning look she cut him off with had him abruptly closing his mouth.
"Don't." Her voice, however, didn't come out sounding nearly as fierce as he'd expected from the look in her eyes, and as he finished tossing his shirt into his pile of things he realized why. The warning expression had been replaced by another look of hers he was all too familiar with, and he smiled back smugly while her eyes continued to travel his body.
"Sure about that, sweetheart?"
Realizing she'd been caught, Lorelai quickly averted her gaze and huffed, turning towards the bed.
"Absolutely," she grumbled. Dean was unconvinced and ready to throw out another retort when she went to turn back the covers of the bed closest to the window, causing a switch to flip in his mind.
"What do you think you're doing?"
At the change in his voice, Lorelai looked back over her shoulder, obviously surprised and definitely confused.
"Going to bed, what do you think I'm doing?" she asked. Dean rolled his eyes.
"Oh haha, very funny. If we're not sharing, you're in that bed," he informed her, pointing at the one closer to the bathroom. Lorelai turned back around to fully face him and raised her eyebrows.
"Seriously? Didn't take you to be very picky about where you sleep."
"I'm not."
She studied him for a moment, and Dean shifted under her gaze, realizing she was going to put it together. Not a moment later, she proved him right when she scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest, her expression turning to one of incredulity.
"You're worried about me sleeping too close to the door?" Dean scowled at her skepticism.
"Hey, chivalry ain't completely dead."
Lorelai scoffed again, reaching into the waistband of her shorts and pulling out her wand.
"And I'm not exactly a damsel in distress."
Dean sighed and weighed his options before fixing her with his best impression of Sam's puppy dog face.
"Please, can you just not fight me on this one?" he pleaded. She narrowed her eyes but eventually gave a sigh of her own and threw her hands up in exasperation.
"You're ridiculous," she told him, stalking over to the other bed. He smiled and made for the one she'd just abandoned, pulling on a fresh shirt as he went.
"Thank you."
She hummed something in response, her back towards him and she pulled back the covers.
"And by the way, until you can stop flinching every time you see this, you can definitely forget about a repeat performance," she told him, waving her wand in front of her face as she slipped under the covers and stowed it under her pillow – much the way he kept his knife. Dean felt his jaw dropping in surprise.
"I – what? Lor, I didn't flinch!" he protested, but she only glared at him.
"Whatever you say, Winchester."
Had he flinched? He hadn't thought so, but she'd been the one watching him.
"Lor, I didn't," he tried again imploringly. Lorelai pursed her lips and nodded, obviously still unconvinced as he got under his own covers.
"Right, must have been my imagination then."
"Lorelai, I –"
"Goodnight, Dean."
Without missing a beat, she reached over and hit the light switch between their beds, killing both of the lamps and bathing them in darkness. Dean could still see her outline in the moonlight, and opened his mouth to continue, but she pointedly rolled over to face the other direction. Sighing he ran a hand down his face and tried to find a comfortable position.
"Night, Lor," he called. Silence followed, and as Dean tried to fall asleep, he couldn't help but replay her words over in his head. Was that really the roadblock? It had stopped being one for him ages ago. When Katie had called in May he hadn't thought anything about witches or magic or any of it; all he'd heard was a scared kid telling him her big sister was in trouble. And he'd dropped everything and ran without a second thought, dragging Sam with him three states over, to help. He'd called her for help when Sam got abducted because of her magic, and he'd been appreciative of it when she helped protect that kid from the striga just last month. So why was she so sure that he'd flinched?
Despite how wired he'd felt going to bed, Dean found himself falling into a deep sleep nearly as soon as his head hit the pillow. Odd but pleasant dreams filled his head – ones where instead of running into each other on a hunt and Lorelai pretending to be his girlfriend, she was just still his girlfriend, and they'd had a normal dinner with his father and brother. Ones where Lorelai wasn't exasperated with Katie wanting Lorelai to tell him hello for her, and he was planning on joining them again for their annual trip to the Hamptons, instead of wondering if he'd see even her again after they took out the vamps and worrying what would happen if his dad found out what she was. Ones where they were sharing a bed, instead of begrudgingly sharing a room.
The end result was a rather peaceful sleep, so when the thrashing sounds began to penetrate his mind and rouse him from his dream world, Dean found himself groaning, sleep still clouding his brain as he buried his head deeper into his pillow.
"For Christ's sake Sam, get it together man," he grumbled. The sounds continued though, and as he was pulled further and further from his vegetative state, Dean realized that although similar, the sounds that had woken him were not the ones he'd become accustomed to from his little brother's nightmares. These moans and cries were much more feminine, and more fearful than upset. A pit began to form in his stomach, unease and confusion growing through the fog in his brain, until a shriek pierced the room, and he remembered – he was sharing a room with Lorelai instead of Sam, and it sounded like she was in some type of trouble.
With that realization, Dean bolted upright, his hand immediately diving under his pillow and emerging with his knife while the other went for the light. He blinked back quickly at the sudden brightness, scanning the room for a threat while he steeled himself to attack. After a moment, however, the only thing he found was Lorelai, and he let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. The room was empty aside from the two of them, and as he carefully climbed out of bed, going to stand over her, he realized that she was only dreaming.
He watched her for a moment, surprised. It hadn't been traditional, sure, but they'd dated for months, and he'd spent plenty a night in that time sharing a bed with her. Some of the things she'd opened up to him about, and some of the cases they'd worked, had been the things of nightmares themselves, but not once had her sleep seemed at all disturbed.
Now, however… whatever visions were filling her head seemed to be causing her not only fear but pain. She was white as a sheet, sweat glistening on her skin, and her face was contorted as she twisted around, limbs moving violently at times, small shrieks and moans continuing to tumble from her lips, punctuated with things like no, not again, and please don't. Dean was used to dealing with Sam's nightmares, but this was something else entirely.
It was almost like she was cursed again, and that thought alone sent shivers down his spine.
"Lorelai," he hissed, placing the knife on the nightstand between their beds. It was to no effect, and he tried again, louder. "Lor!"
"No! Get your –" Her arm swung up abruptly, almost as if she were taking a swing at some invisible force, but in the end only shielding her face. Bracing himself, Dean bent down, knowing he was likely taking his life into his own hands as he reached out to her.
"Lorelai," he tried again gently, pulling the arm away from her face. This time she heard him and shot up, complete terror in her eyes and drawing her wand so quickly Dean couldn't help but be impressed. It was only once her eyes found him that her body sagged in relief, her breathing coming out in great gasping gulps, and he could tell the adrenaline was still rushing through her veins.
"Dean!" she panted, the hand holding her wand dropping down to the bed as he took a seat and shifted closer to her.
"Yeah, Lor, it's just me," he assured her. "You're okay. You were only dreaming, I'm right here."
Dean wasn't entirely sure what he'd been expecting, but he would have bet money that whatever response was awaiting him would have some type of snap to it – in his experience Lorelai had never been good with being vulnerable, but she'd been exceptionally guarded and edgy with him whenever they so much as danced anywhere near the neighborhood of vulnerability since going their separate ways. The last thing he would have seen coming was the way her eyes became glassy, or the nervous bite of her lip as she nodded her head, looking like she was trying to convince herself of the truth of his words more than anything.
"Right, just a… just… just a dream," she repeated back, her breath still coming in pants, her chest heaving with the effort.
"Lorelai?" he ventured tentatively, but she only sat there with a thousand-mile stare. Remembering how close she'd stayed to him after the water wraith they'd hunted the previous summer, and how much comfort physical contact had seemed to bring her both then and in Kinston, he opted to gamble and reached out a hand to gently touch her arm. The risk paid off, and he could feel her muscles ease ever so slightly as soon as he made contact. And although her breathing didn't return to normal, it did begin to slow.
Noticing she still had a death grip on the weapon in her hand, Dean reached out his other hand, intent on easing it from her grasp and setting it aside. He didn't know much about magic or wands, but he knew he wouldn't want someone holding a loaded gun in the state she was in, and figured the logic was likely transferable. This time, when their hands brushed, she tensed, but her head immediately swiveled, mouth opening as if she were about to say something. When her eyes landed on his hand, however, already wrapping around the shaft, she deflated, the alarm on her face fading only to be replaced by surprise and something else Dean was having trouble naming. Whatever it was, she watched him carefully take the stick into his own hand and finally set it on the nightstand next to his discarded knife, and didn't put up a fight about it.
With Lorelai having been successfully disarmed, Dean shifted closer and rested his now free hand on her leg, rubbing her arm reassuringly with the other. Lorelai remained frozen in place, and Dean started to worry he didn't know how to help her. Finally, she looked back to him, fear still in her eyes, and anxiety beginning to play across her features.
"I'm sorry… I… I –"
"Lor, it's okay," he soothed her. "I've got you. I promise, I've got you."
He expected her to nod and look away – that's what the new, stoic, detached Lorelai he'd come to know would have done – or perhaps smile softly and murmur a thanks before distracting herself by getting up for a glass of water. What he didn't expect was for her to all but dive forward, throwing her arms around his neck and burrowing her head into his chest. He was so stunned that for a moment he froze, glancing down at the quivering mess in his arms as if he needed to check that it was actually her.
The first sound of a sniffle, however, broke him out of the trance, and he wrapped his own arms around her, holding her firmly against him. It didn't take long for the heavy breathing to turn into shaking, or for her tears to soak through the front of his shirt. He couldn't help but ask himself how the hell he'd ended up with this woman crying in his arms twice in a row now, though this was decidedly different than the last time.
Dean felt helpless in that moment and found his mind wandering back to the books he'd borrowed from Bobby and the bits he'd meant to ask her about, but hadn't found the time or opportunity. The tidbits Olivia had shared too. None of it mattered right then. Dean knew better than to think he'd get answers, or even that he was entitled to them. So instead of asking the questions he had, or offering useless platitudes, he kissed the top of Lorelai's head and held her tightly while she clung to him as if he were a life raft.
Eventually, he shifted them so that he was able to lean back against the headboard while he held her, but if Lorelai noticed the movement, it made no difference. By the time she'd finally quieted down, and the shaking had subsided, and her breathing had evened out, Dean had long lost track of time, but was aching for sleep himself. Craning his neck around, he could tell that her eyes were closed, and he assumed she'd drifted off at some point. Knowing they were still in for a long day come sunup, he pressed one last kiss to her head and started to carefully untangle himself to go back to his own bed. He'd hardly moved, however, when Lorelai's grip suddenly tightened, and she shifted ever so slightly to look up at him through red-rimmed eyes.
"Where're you going?" she asked sleepily. Dean frowned and brushed some of her hair out of her face, wondering if he shouldn't have made her drink some water.
"Back to bed. I need my four hours, and so do you" he whispered. Lorelai frowned, her teeth catching on her bottom lip.
"Don't go," she pleaded. "Just… can you stay with me?"
For the briefest of moments, Dean thought of telling her no. He thought of telling her no, and letting her stew in the choices she'd made by shutting him out and pushing him away at every turn, despite the fact that she'd been the one lying to him for nearly half a year. The moment he met her eyes, though, he knew he was done for.
"You sure?" he asked instead. Lorelai nodded eagerly, a wave of relief washing over her face while she shifted to sit up a bit on her own for the first time since he'd woken her.
"Please," she begged. Their eyes locked, neither of them willing to be the one to break it, until Dean finally nodded and began pulling back the covers for them.
"Alright," he agreed. "Come on."
"Thank you."
She followed him under the covers, fitting herself against him as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and Dean tried hard not to ruminate on the last time they'd intentionally gone to bed this way, or think about how much he had missed this in their time apart. Instead, he closed his eyes and focused on his breathing rather than the woman in his arms. He'd almost managed to fall asleep, when Lorelai shifted closer, tightening her grip unconsciously and catching his attention.
"Dean?" she asked in a small, quiet voice, that almost didn't sound like hers. He made a noise in acknowledgement and heard the breath she took next. "I'm sorry. I… it's been…"
"You don't need to apologize," he told her, sleep fighting to claim him, but his curiosity beating it away. "I've just never known you to have nightmares."
Her fingers started to trace patterns on the arm she was grasping, and Dean felt his body relaxing into it.
"I used to have them all the time, as a kid and then after the uh… after the war. It's been a few years since they've been a problem. I knew they'd been coming back since I got nicked on the arm… I think it's part of whatever venom the blade was dipped in… but I didn't think they'd escalate so fast."
Dean frowned, more questions circling through his mind than before, but he settled for pulling her closer and dropping a kiss to her shoulder.
"You need to get that looked at, Lor."
Instead of putting up her usual argument whenever it came to selfcare, Lorelai only nodded and nestled down into the pillow.
"After this case," she whispered. Dean doubted she meant it, but before he could decide what retort he wanted to send her way, his mind went blank, and he caved to the exhaustion he'd been fighting for at least the past half hour. And this time, instead of wistful dreams of what ifs and what could have beens, he slept soundly and peacefully, for once feeling like something was the way it was meant to be.
Hello all! As always, thank you so much for reading ❤️ I know the world's more than a little crazy for a lot of people for a lot of different reasons right now, and if it is for you, I hope you're hanging in there and that this may have brightened your day even just a bit. Escapism in reading and writing has been my way of dealing longer than I can remember, so I'll be over here in my little corner, living in my dream worlds when I can and hoping February's warmer than January so I can stop freezing my ass off.
Next chapter'll be up 2/9/25 😘 See you all then!